A Promise Kept
by Phantom Gypsy
Summary: Tokito and Kubo manage to find a woman connected to "W.A." and take her in for questioning. In the end, Kubo wonders if ignorance is bliss.
1. Curiosity Killed the Cat

**WILD ADAPTER**

A PROMISE KEPT

The young man sat on the floor in front of the TV, knees crossed, ignoring the world around him for the one on the glittering screen. There was a tiny controller in his hands that squeaked in protest every time he pummeled the buttons. His back ached from sitting crouched for so long, his palms were hot and sweaty, and his right foot had fallen asleep hours ago, but it wasn't enough to stop him. Not even the shrill ringing of the phone from the other room was going to interrupt him; not when he was so close.

The fifth time the phone cried out with its annoying little vibrato it was answered by a voice that came from the bathroom,

"Tokito! Answer the phone!"

"Ah, let the machine get it! It's probably just the quack doctor lookin' for you, anyway." How the heck could he even hear the phone when he was in the shower?

"In which case, I need you to answer it for me. Please."

Tokito growled between clenched teeth. The buttons clicked and squeaked as the game flashed warning colors through the pixilated screen, illuminating the small beads of sweat on his forehead.

"I'm kinda in the middle of something here!"

"Oh, Tokito," a familiar voice crackled through on the answering machine. "So you are home. I was wondering if you might be able to pick up the phone."

Tokito snarled upon hearing Kou's voice. "See? Told you." He leaned backwards, never taking his eyes off of the television and shouted, "Kubo's busy!"

"Obviously. I figured as much since he wasn't answering his cell phone. Could you give him a message for me?"

"That's what the answering machine is for," he grumbled and tried to ignore the twitching in his left eyebrow. He was so close to finishing this level!

"Yes, well, regarding the message—it's something I'd rather not leave on a recording device."

Just as Kou finished his sentence, there was a loud _snap_ and Tokito jumped at the sight of the controller crumpled in his palm, buttons and wires extruding from the plastic. A few seconds later, the screen blackened and fat red letters appeared, spelling out one of the worst phrases Tokito knew to exist: game over.

"Dammit."

Hands balled into fists, Tokito stood, stormed over to the phone and grabbed the receiver.

"What?"

"My, aren't we feisty today. Would you do me a favor and tell Kubo to drop by when he has a free moment? It's regarding some inside information I recently heard. Apparently there's someone nearby that's had some dealings with 'W.A.' in the past. I thought you might find this a promising lead, no?"

"Yeah, I'll tell him. Hey."

"Hm?"

"What do you mean 'nearby?'"

"Well, I guess you'll have to come with Kubo to find out. But remember what they say—curiosity killed the cat."

Tokito glowered at the broken controller across the room. "I'm not a cat! And what the heck is that supposed to mean, anyway?"

He could hear Kou smirking on the other end of the line. "Ask me again sometime. Thanks again, Tokito."

Just as the doctor hung up with a static _click_, the door to the bathroom swung open and a wave of hot, moist air breezed through the small apartment.

"Stupid quack," Tokito muttered. Upon feeling the warm breath of steam on his neck, he turned to see Kubo step out of the bathroom and glide his way over to a pack of cigarettes lying on a small side table. With only a towel wrapped low on his hips, Tokito could see all the bony outlines and scars on Kubo's lean body; without his clothes, he looked so…frail.

"What did he want?" Kubo asked as he casually ignited what must've been his fortieth smoke of the day. It seemed silly and he would never admit it to anyone, but Tokito loved to watch him light his cigarettes. He did it so gracefully and flawlessly, as if the flame came straight from his hand and burned the end of the little white stick before it even had time to turn the proper orange color of fire.

"You," Tokito said simply as he jumped over the back of the couch and onto its cushions. "Said he wanted you to stop by. He thinks he found something on 'W.A.' Or someone."

"A person?"

Tokito shrugged. "That's what he said." For a moment, the younger man stared down at his hands, oblivious to the way Kubo was eyeing him. The world was blurred without his glasses, but he could still see the way Tokito sat cross-legged, arms straight and stiff in front of him. Kubo knew this pose. Tokito was contemplating something, which meant next came the soft-spoken:

"Kubo?"

"Hm?"

"What does it mean when you say 'curiosity killed the cat?'"

"It's a saying. It means that being too nosy about things will get you in trouble."

"Oh." Tokito pouted. "Man, I hate not knowing what people are talking about when they say things like that. It's frustrating as hell."

"You'll learn," Kubo said reassuringly and started to walk back into the bedroom. "Just be nosy. About everything."

The younger man sighed and lay back on the couch with his hands crossed behind his head. At least he fit on the sofa. Kubo's legs always dangled off the end and Tokito had a habit of colliding with them when he walked past.

As he waited for Kubo to dress, Tokito stared up at the blank ceiling and flexed his gloved hand. It'd been tingling all day. It wasn't as bad as the crippling burning sensations he would get, but it was awful annoying. He pondered, again, what might happen if he tried to cut off the limb altogether, but never got much farther than that. In the end he decided nothing good could come of self-amputation—hell, he could barely cut a cucumber straight—and Kubo would probably kill him if he tried anyway.

Something cold and wet plopped onto his cheek. Tokito opened his eyes and jumped at the sight of Kubo peering down at him with only a few inches to spare between their faces. His hair was still sopping.

"Ready?"

Tokito sat up and started to follow Kubo to the door, then stopped.

"You need to dry your hair."

Kubo glanced back over his shoulder. "Oh?"

"Or you'll go bald, remember?"

Kubo couldn't help but grin at those endearing, violet eyes. The small smile caught Tokito off guard, who couldn't figure out why his friend seemed to be silently laughing at him.

"You're right."

Still smiling, he retraced his steps back to the bathroom and grabbed for the towel again.

* * *

**A/N: I love these two guys; this series is awfully addicting, and I couldn't help but take advantage of the fact that there are still so many mysteries in the plot. So, inevitably you get...FANFICTION! =D **


	2. Chained

"I can't believe you paid him."

Tokito kicked the aluminum can again, watching the red logo flash at him as

it rolled down the sidewalk. He liked the tinny sound it made and no matter how hard he tried, couldn't resist kicking it as they walked along. "It's not like he told us anything helpful. We could be out here for days searching for some guy with a tattoo on his neck. Or he may not even exist at all! Kou said so himself—it's just a rumor."

"True," Kubo said calmly. "But a rumor is better than nothing. After all, even gossip has to start somewhere."

The younger man didn't say anything for a while, content to keep beside Kubo and kick the empty can as they walked. The buildings around them towered up to the sky; giant gray blocks that cast giant black shadows. Slivers of sunlight managed to seep through, only to illuminate the city's filth and bake whatever happened to be rotting in the street gutters. Clothing lines were strung high above, weaving between the dull structures like some horrible kind of spider web.

"The sky sure is a weird color tonight."

Kubo looked up and realized Tokito was right. He'd never seen such a muted sunset before. There was no brilliant gold. In fact, there wasn't even any real light; just an unsettling, orange-brown haze glowing faintly in the sky. Strangely, the more he thought about it, he couldn't remember seeing any sunsets before Tokito was around.

"So what's the plan?" Tokito looked up at the taller man. "You really think they'll just let you walk in and interrogate everyone?"

"That's the plan," he said simply, as if it were obvious. "These smaller gangs aren't as fussy or organized as the yakuza. They're easily bought and pretty easy-going, so long as you don't bring them any trouble." Even as he said this, Kubo swiftly removed his gun from his back pocket, checked that it was loaded and tucked it away again, making sure his shirttail hid it from view.

Tokito watched him curiously. "Then what's that for?"

"Just in case the plan doesn't work."

They rounded the corner one of the buildings and turned down into a crowded alleyway. Almost immediately, the sounds and smells began to overwhelm Tokito. Large metal barrels had been stuffed with anything that would burn, and were now filled to the brim with flames and sparks that danced in stinking wind. Stereos were propped up on overturned crates, blaring what must've been music, but Tokito thought it sounded more like someone trying to blow out their vocal chords by screaming. Many of the men down here were either drunk or heavily drugged, staggering across the alleyway or sitting silently in some dark corner. Tokito spotted a few women mingled here and there, but they wore little clothing and looked like they were ready to devour whoever so much as glanced in their direction. Thick, dark smoke wafted heavily in the air, carrying the scent of burning paper, bodies, and cigarettes. He couldn't help but wonder what the yakuza must've been like if Kubo considered this "easy-going."

"Stay close."

Kubo spoke only loud enough for Tokito to hear and then moved deeper into the dark mass of people. The younger man obeyed and was somewhat tempted to hold onto the back of Kubo's shirt as they navigated through the ugly scene. Kubo led them to a small group hanging around one of the rusty drums and smooth-talked his way into the conversation, pausing now and then to take heavy drags on his cigarette. He sure did look tough, Tokito thought. Like he belonged here.

He suddenly realized someone was sliding a hand down his lower back. "Hey sweetie. What's a cute face like you doing around here?"

Tokito hissed, spun around and glared at the woman but this only seemed to amuse her. "Boy, you sure do have pretty eyes. I bet the rest of you is just as gorgeous. You're not a rent boy, are you?"

Tokito fumbled for words until a firm hand grabbed his shoulder and Kubo stepped forward.

"This one's not worth the trouble," he said. Tokito stiffened, realizing Kubo was pulling him back against his chest, hands creeping around his hips.

"Ah, so that's it," the woman winked. "He's your doll. Lucky you. Well, not that I care. If you're ever looking for a different kind of fun you come see me, cutie."

As soon as she disappeared back into the crowd, Tokito pulled away from Kubo's grasp and wheeled on him.

"What the hell, Kubo? Do you have to play it up so well?"

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"That's not what I meant! Now everyone around here thinks we're—!"

"Yes. And they won't bother you anymore." Kubo threw the stub of his cigarette into the barrel of fire and fished out another one. "The story's the same here, too. Everyone's heard of 'W.A.' but can't figure out where it comes from or who's dealing it. And besides that…"

He stopped to light his cigarette. After watching him flick the lighter three times, Tokito had an annoying feeling that Kubo was dragging out the suspense on purpose. The worst part was that he let it get to him.

"What?"

"No one's ever seen a person that matches the description Kou gave us. At least, no one we've talked to yet."

Tokito snorted. "Figures. But that's what you get for believing a—"

The boy froze. Through the dancing flames he caught sight of a pair of eyes; dark, wide eyes that stared at him from beneath a curtain of messy bangs. She was watching him carefully.

Kubo looked down at his friend, puzzled to see the animated boy suddenly so silent and still, almost as if he had turned into stone. He tried to follow Tokito's gaze through the fire, but it was too late.

"Tokito!"

The boy dashed from Kubo's side, barreling his way through people and knocking over a few of the drunks that were slower to move out of his path. Kubo caught a glimpse of the woman as she darted out of the alleyway, leaving a wake of angry curses and surprised cries behind her. Tokito's fleeting silhouette disappeared from view and Kubo bit down hard on his cigarette.

"Shit."

* * *

_Dammit, how can she be so fast? _

Tokito bolted around another corner, just barely managing to keep her in sight as they raced through the narrow streets. While he chased her down a straightaway, he tried calling out between breaths,

"Hey! Wait!"

If anything, she only seemed to run faster at the sound of his voice.

"Dammit!"

She turned suddenly, dashing out into the middle of an intersection. Tokito didn't think twice about rushing out into the oncoming traffic, narrowly dodging the honking cars. The starch scent of burnt rubber filled his nose, making him choke on the smoke, but he kept his eyes focused ahead on the dark silhouette. The rush of hot exhaust reminded him how close of a brush with death he was making. Some distant voice in his head made him think of Kubo and the brutal scolding that was sure to come if he survived this.

The woman bolted into another narrow alleyway surrounded by concrete parking garages. At one of the corners, she disappeared into a small doorway and sprinted up a flight of stairs. Tokito stayed close, but was beginning to feel a sharp pang in his chest. Ignoring the sound of his strained panting being echoed off the garage walls, he redoubled his efforts and pounded his way up the stairs. He couldn't lose her. He would not lose her. Not now.

She jumped.

Tokito slowed, watching in disbelief as she threw herself off the edge of the retaining wall and sailed through the air, cleared the width of the street and landed on the next rooftop. The young man swore, torn between his common sense and his promise not to let her escape. Taking a deep breath, Tokito sprinted across the lot, the wind screaming past his ears as he built up speed. He took a giant leap onto the parking garage wall and lunged, flying the same path she had taken just seconds before.

Landing knocked the wind out of him and he tumbled unceremoniously onto the rooftop, legs and arms swinging wildly.

"Shit!"

The concrete scraped at his face, peeling away a layer of skin on his cheekbone, burning holes through the knees of his pants. When he finally came to a halt, he scanned the rooftop for any sign of his quarry. To his surprise, she was watching him with those feral eyes, standing on the edge of the building as the wind tossed her mangy black hair around her face.

"Wait! I just—!"

She took off again, barreling down a rusty set of stairs that led to another back alley.

_Screw it! _

Tokito lunged after her again, leaving behind a skid mark of blood from where his face had met pavement. After clanging his way down the stairwell, Tokito ran as hard as he could, desperately trying to catch up to this elusive shadow of his past.

At first, Tokito thought he was starting to hallucinate when he saw her slow down and eventually stop. But then he saw it; another figure was standing at the end of the alleyway, blocking the woman's escape route. Tokito knew this shadow. He'd know that tall, lazy posture anywhere.

Kubota raised his gun, pointing it at the woman and forcing her to look down its black barrel. A hot gust of wind blew through the alley, tossing papers and trash about his feet, stealing away the thin line of smoke coming from the tip of his cigarette.

Tokito ran up behind the woman, panting and wincing at the cramps zinging throughout this body. She glanced over her shoulder, ignoring Kubo as if he wasn't a threat at all and stared at Tokito as if he was about to consume her. The younger man straightened, having calmed his breathing a little more and said,

"I know you."

Those dark eyes flashed, as if what he just said terrorized her. Kubo glanced past his gun, frowned at the blood on Tokito's face and then looked back at the woman. There was nothing noteworthy about her–tall, skinny, dressed in a cut-off pair of jeans with holes up and down the legs, and a black hooded sweater that was three times her size. But there, just above the neckline of the hoodie, Kubo saw it.

Stenciled into her frail, white neck was a tattoo of chained links encircling her throat.

**A/N: hahaha, this is fun ^_^ Please feel free to let me know what you think so far! I'd love to hear your comments! **


	3. A Weird Name

Kubota could see the fight leave her eyes.

Her body stayed as rigid as brick, tense enough that he could see her thin muscles twitch as she braced herself to run again, but the wild light in her eyes faded into black and he knew the battle was over.

While her attention was still focused on Tokito, Kubo lowered his gun and took a step forward, then froze when she jerked away from him.

"Kubo, don't."

He looked up at Tokito, caught off guard by the soft defensive note in his voice. Like he was protecting some stray, frightened animal. _Huh, _he thought. _How ironic._

Without warning, she bolted again, away from Tokito and slamming hard into Kubo's ready arms. He wasn't completely ready for such strength to come from such a thin, frail body and she flailed wildly against his grip, kicking and twisting and clobbering him with her bony fist. Cursing, Kubo went to grab her wrist and his hand swung through the air. With a start, he realized she was missing her entire right hand.

Tokito watched helplessly as the two grappled for a moment longer, torn by the confusing impulse to protect them both. Still unsure of what exactly it was he planned to do, he barreled towards them, Kubo's name building in the back of his throat.

It all ended very quickly.

Kubo finally wrenched her arm behind her back and brutally thrust her to the ground with such force she skidded into a nearby rusted pipe, slicing open the thin skin on her forehead.

"Kubo!"

"Oops."

"Whaddya mean, 'oops?' You're not supposed to kill her!"

"It's all right," the older man assured him, looking down at his defeated opponent with calculating eyes. "She's stronger than she looks. She'll be fine."

Tokito frowned at the red tears dripping down the pipeline. "How do you know?"

"No one can be that fragile and that strong. Unless it's artificial."

"Artificial?"

"Drugs."

The woman stirred and held up her hand to the gash on her forehead. She frowned at the fresh blood in her palm, then turned towards Kubo and glared.

"You're Makoto, aren't you?"

"Doubt it," he said coolly, probing in his shirt pocket for a cigarette.

She nodded, as if she knew this was the answer he'd give. "I've seen your picture around. The Yakuza still consider you a celebrity."

"Is that so?" He let out a breath of smoke. "Then what does that make you, I wonder? A trophy?" Her glare darkened, but Kubo ignored her and simply pushed his glasses back up onto his nose. "I have nothing to do with them anymore."

"Then what do you—?"

"Who are you?" Tokito blurted.

The woman froze and her dark, wary eyes shifted to him. She reminded Kubo of a rabbit, terrified by anything that Tokito did or said. He watched her closely, swearing that if she tried to run again, he'd shoot her in the foot. After a few tense moments, she sighed and covered half her face with her black sleeve, still trying to stem the flow of blood.

"I know I've seen you before," Tokito said, frustrated by the blank spaces in his memory.

"So you still recognize me. Even after all this."

She stood, easily rising to Kubo's height and gave them both a sad smile. "Soko. My name's Soko."

"Soko…" Tokito tasted the name in his mouth and frowned when he couldn't decipher it. "That's a weird name."

She chuckled, because there was no way for Tokito to know that he had said the exact same thing when she had first met him. All those years ago.

"So I've been told."

"Soko." She turned her attention back to Kubo. "Come with us for a bit. There are some things I'd like to ask you."

Toki took a step forward. "Yeah! Like, how come I recognize you? And how are you connected with W.A.? And why the hell'd you run away like that?"

Kubo nodded. "Yes, something like that."

"I—" Her eyes landed on Tokito's gloved hand that mirrored where hers should've been. Conscious of his beastly hand, he flexed it and tried to hand it behind his back. "No," she whispered. "Your hand."

Kubo's face remained a cold sheet of stone, but inside, his heart sank at the devastation in her voice. Thus far, every undeclared answer she'd given them did not sound promising.

Tokito shrank away from her. "What about it?"

"They—is it—?"

"Tokito, show her your hand."

The younger man looked up at Kubo. "Why?"

"Just do it."

After deciding it was best not to oppose Kubo's strict tone, Tokito gently pulled off the glove and tried not to gag at the sight of the hairy, clawed appendage. Soko, however, slowly reached for it, dark eyes glowing as she beheld the mutant fist. Kubo inhaled deeply on the cigarette, nervously watching as this stranger touched his beloved friend; something he himself was forbidden to do. Tokito winced as her fingers brushed along the fur and Kubo bit down on his cigarette.

Soko withdrew her hand. "You don't remember it?"

"That's what I've been trying to tell you!" Tokito spat. "Now quit playing dumb and tell us what you know!"

Kubo saw her mouth tighten into a thin line, emphasizing a bent scar on the edge of her cheek. In that instant, he knew she had locked away her words behind those lips and it would be a miracle if they could extract any of the secrets she carried in her bottomless eyes.

* * *

Kasai smeared the last of his cigarette into the ashtray and sighed. Outside his office window, he could see the street lamps struggling to life, illuminating the streets with small spheres of amber light. Even with the last of daylight almost completely gone, the city was quick to replace it, and the streets and skyscrapers burned with the millions of bulbs that transformed the darkness of night into one giant rave.

"…yeah…when was this? Yeah, if you could, that'd be great."

Kasai glanced back at the desk opposite of his, where Araki was juggling his cell on his shoulder, a scribbling pen in his right hand, and typing on his keyboard with the other. The older police officer shook his head; it was only a matter of time before the multitasking ended in a spilled mug of coffee.

Sighing again, Kasai fell into his seat and stared at the black monitor in front of him. The week-old reports scattered about his desk were glaringly white, reminding him that he could get away with procrastinating for only so much longer.

"5—2—3—9…yeah. Got it. Thank you, sir. I'll let him know. Bye." Araki hung up and immediately began typing furiously on his keyboard as he spoke. "We just got another lead on 'W.A.'"

Kasai groaned, deciding it was more discreet than banging his head on the desk. "What is it this time?"

"There was a tip-off that someone's in the city who has a direct link to 'W.A.'"

"A direct link, huh?" Kasai grabbed for a pen and began flipping it between his fingers, dismissing the so-called lead for another dead-end rumor. Like the other sixty or so that had been reported this week. "Where'd it come from?"

"Well, we're not sure…" Araki frowned at the computer screen, stumbling for words. "Someone—"

"Told someone who told someone who told someone. Fishing rumors out of the air doesn't help us, Araki."

"I know, sir, but—"

"And besides, it's unlikely that whoever is circulating 'W.A.' would let something so important leak so easily. I find it hard to believe they'd simply let such an asset loose on the streets. Especially a human one."

"But if they did, wouldn't you want to know?"

Kasai snorted. "Yeah. Me and the rest of the world, too. How do you expect us to track down this one person in the middle of Tokyo?"

"Well, we may not have to." Kasai glanced over at Araki's desk, frowning at the smug little expression on his face that said he knew something Kasai didn't. "Someone thought they saw your nephew with a suspicious looking person. Wouldn't it be nice if he managed to track down the suspect already?"

Hope rose into his chest at the same time dread plummeted like an anchor into his gut. Leaning back in his chair, he tried to keep his voice neutral. "You realize this is Kubota we're talking about. When he is ever _not _with a suspicious looking person?"

Araki turned his screen around, looking quite proud of himself. "That's him, isn't it?"

Kasai squinted at the monitor, ignoring a comment his nephew had made once about him being an 'old man' and needing to wear bifocals. Sure enough, there was a snapshot of Kubota at a street intersection with Tokito at his side—Jesus, did he take that kid with him everywhere?—and a ragged young woman flanking his other.

"Yes," Kasai muttered, "that would be my nephew. Where was this photo taken?"

"From one of the traffic cameras in the Shinjuku district. It was taken about an hour ago."

Kasai frowned. "Do you have any way to prove she's the suspect?"

"Not really." Araki turned to the notes he had scribbled on a crinkled restaurant receipt. "All the report stated was that a questionable person had been seen roaming the streets recently and was believed to have connections to 'W.A.' Apparently, the suspect was missing his right hand."

_Like Toki? _

Kasai took a closer look at the footage, but the image was too pixilated and dark to discern anything.

"Can't you just call him?"

"What?"

The younger man threw his hands behind his head. "Just call Kubota. He can tell you who she is, right?"

"No." Kasai stood, suddenly itching to move around the small office, glancing periodically at the frozen photo on the monitor. "He probably wouldn't even answer. Kubota's selfish when it comes to information and if he's conducting his own investigation, he won't want to involve the police. We'll only complicate things." _He would run and hide at the slightest hint of legalities and red tape. _

Araki clicked his tongue. "Tch. After all you've done for him. What thankless relatives you have."

Kasai chuckled. "Yes, he is." When his pacing brought him back to the window, the he stopped and stared out at the blur of lights racing along the highway. "However…"

"…yes?"

"If we assume that this person Kubota found is actually connected in some way to 'W.A.,' then we need to have her off the streets as soon as possible. She's probably distributing the drug and even if she's not—"

"The Yakuza. They'll want her, too."

Kasai looked over at his fellow detective and nodded. "She needs to be brought in for questioning, before the Yakuza catch wind of this. If they get to her before we do…well, I don't even want to think about what would happen."

"So how do we find them?"

Kasai went back to staring out the window, until he refocused on his reflection in the dark pane. Kubota would never hand her over. Not only for the sake of his own private investigation, but because his nephew had recently acquired some misplaced sense of "protector" ever since he'd picked up Tokito. If he picked up many more strays off of the street, Kasai would have to start calling him the 'old cat lady.' Except instead of a cane to beat people away, Kubo carried a gun. And that would make things a little more difficult.

Wondering if he would come to regret this decision later, Kasai dragged a hand over his face and sighed heavily.

"Call the chief. Tell him we need to assemble a detachment ASAP. Once we've confirmed her identity, we'll move in."

"Yes sir!"

Araki, suddenly instilled with a new eagerness, went to snatch his phone from the desktop and in his enthusiasm, bumped the coffee mug with his elbow, spilling hot, black liquid across the desk and into the rookie's lap.

"Shit!"

Kasai shook his head, chuckling to himself, and reached for another cigarette. As he lit it, he prayed that one day his nephew would forgive him for what he was about to do.

* * *

**A/N: YAY! I love this chapter, personally. Which is ironic, seeing as how only about 10% of it was actually planned ^_^**


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